Islands in the Sky

2.14

Cassa nodded again, and stepped into the hallway, and gently pulled the door closed behind her.

She looked around, at the faces before her, most apparently trying to pretend they hadn’t overheard any of what had just been said between her and her grandmother.

She glanced around, thinking. Some out here might have been shocked by what they had heard. Not the guards, certainly, because they were accustomed to not overhearing that which didn’t concern them, but for some of the waiting visitors and business associates, that conversation might have been something of a surprise.

A surprise wasn’t so terrible a thing, though, Cassa thought to herself, not for these people. In part that was why she had left the door open, and it was something she had thought of as she did. It was worth her family’s allies overhearing such conversations now and then, Cassa thought, as a gentle reminder to them of their place in the world. Because those who had overheard ought now to understand the world a little better. They ought to understand who not to antagonise, and who to befriend, and most of all, they ought to understand that even though Cassa was spoken of as the gentle one, she was still one of her family. The women of Middletower were dangerous, and had been since the city began. They were dangerous and deadly and ruthlessly cruel, so cruel they smiled and talked politely amongst themselves as they planned the murders of their family.

Even Cassa.

Even Cassa, who spent the morning of her own wedding day politely talking to her grandmother about her grandmother’s murder.

With luck, some here would remember this morning, and tell others, and one day, as word spread, as Cassa created an illusion of herself, one day perhaps this story might help her, by changing a crucial mind at a crucial moment.

That was her hope. That was why she had left the door open.

Even though such games didn’t especially matter right then, Cassa played her games anyway. It was almost a habit. She played a role, because she always played a role, because she was Cassa Middletower, and this was what she did.

She managed her reputation, like all her family did. She managed it more carefully outside the tower, because those inside it already knew her, and knew of her supposed weakness, her kindness, and so spent far too much time smiling at her to realize the danger they might one day be in. That suited Cassa. She needed to keep the affection of the guards and retainers. One day, to inherit, she would need either their loyalty or their fear, one or the other. She had their affection now, for the most part, and affection easily made loyalty, and it was simpler to keep hold of affection than it was to newly instil fear for no good reason.

Cassa always kept that fact in mind. She nurtured her reputation with the guards. She was always careful around them, and she had been careful here today. She knew that overhearing such a conversation would not have shocked any of them. They would barely have noticed it. Such things were said in the Middletower twice and thrice a day.

The family’s allies and business partners, though, those might be shocked, and those she needed no special affection from. If anything, she didn’t want their affection at all. She preferred to be disliked, outside the tower. Fear made people manageable, and that was something her family had always known. Those who feared were easier to control than those who loved, and so Cassa always tried to nurture fear, if she could. And when the opportunity had arisen, standing at the door, holding it open, when the opportunity had arisen and Cassa had already been thinking of her inheritance, she had made it a point to add a little to the outsiders’ fear. And her grandmother had understood, and known what Cassa was doing, and in talking too, her grandmother’s reputation had been improved as well.

Cassa was satisfied by her morning’s games, as she closed the door. Even if she was not especially pleased to still be being wed.

She closed the door, and heard it click shut, and took her hand away from the latch. Once she had, once the door was properly, audibly closed and she could not dash back inside and attack her grandmother, only then did the guards take their hands from their sword-hilts.

Cassa noticed that. She looked at the nearest hand, thinking. It was another reason she would probably not have succeeded in taking her inheritance today, she thought, even if she had wished to. Everyone nearby would have been expecting her to try today, which made it the worst possible day to act.

She stayed calm. She stayed thoughtful. She looked around, and smiled.

She smiled, to tell these guards she bore no grudges, and also to add a little more weight to the story of this conversation when it was told by the outside visitors. Cassa had discussed murder, and left her grandmother’s room, and smiled calmly. The outsiders, all those there who were not of the Middletower, they were certain to remember a smile in such circumstances.

So Cassa smiled. She smiled for a moment, and then she nodded, and said, “Come,” assuming some of the guards had been told to escort her back to her chambers, and wait with her there, to make certain she got to her wedding.

Some apparently had. Four went with her, four she did not know, as she began to walk away.